


The High Warlock of Brooklyn

by whatadaze



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-09-30 17:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10168112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatadaze/pseuds/whatadaze
Summary: Magnus is the high warlock of Brooklyn.Most days, he is proud of that title.Some days, not so much.





	1. The Lonely Warlock

Magnus is the high warlock of Brooklyn.

Most days, he is proud of it. 

Some days, not so much. 

On the good days, Magnus takes full advantage of his title and what comes with it. The glammed out parties, the numerous lovers, and not to mention, the _power_.  

On the bad days, however, Magnus often finds himself walking along the edge of the Brooklyn bridge. He places one foot in front of the other and counts the number of steps it takes him to walk to the end of the bridge. By the time he makes it to the other side, he usually snaps out of it, portaling himself to some other country to take his mind off of whatever was bothering him at the time.

 _Usually_. 

At 413 years old, Magnus has been to every continent, every country, every city, every nook and cranny of this _abysmally_ small world, and still, he has never feels as if that was enough. 

And when those thoughts creep up into his mind, he finds himself sitting on top of the Brooklyn bridge once again, counting the number of cars driving through, and wondering if the mundanes below him ever feel the same way he does at that moment. 

Empty.

* * *

It is Wednesday.

Or is it Thursday? 

Magnus doesn’t care much for the days of the week anymore. 

He takes another sip of his drink and watches the crowd of people dancing along to the beat of the music. A Seelie takes a seat beside him, and presses her body against his. Magnus looks down at the pretty woman and rests his arm against the back of the couch. 

“Why so gloomy, Magnus?” she asks, a small pout forming on her pale lips. 

The warlock shrugs his shoulders, before pulling out his compact. He examines his face, running a finger along his eyeliner to remove the smudges that had formed throughout the night. “This is the third party this week, darling. After a while they _do_  tend to get a bit repetitive...Even the ones I throw myself.” 

He feels the couch shift beneath him and her breath soon brushes against his ear. “Then should we...leave?” she asks, placing a hand on his knee. “We can find excitement elsewhere.” 

Magnus shuts his compact and rests his hand on top of the Seelie girl’s before slowly pushing it away. He shoves the compact into his back pocket and stands up from the couch, much to the her disdain. “Now how I would look as a host if I did that, sweetie? The party host should _never_  leave before his guests!” He brushes some glitter off his pants and spins around to face the poor girl, a frown now pasted on her pretty features. He smiles and gently grabs her chin. “Now a beautiful woman like you shouldn’t spend the rest of the night pouting. Here,” he says, conjuring a bright cocktail drink with a snap of his fingers. “This one’s on me.” 

Magnus sends her a final wink before swiftly moving across the dance floor. 

“Love that top dear,” he says to a dancing vampire. “Make sure you don’t get any blood on it!” 

He winks at a group of werwolves huddled in a corner before waving the bartender over. 

“Dearest, the theme of this party is pretty in _pink_ ,” Magnus says, waving a hand across the club. “And yet, the drinks are _purple_. Do you know why that is?” 

The bartender shrugs and Magnus rolls his eyes as he snaps his fingers. All the drinks instantly appeared bright pink. 

“You’re having _me_  do all the work, dear,” he says, grabbing the lapels of the bartender’s coat before tugging him forward. “It makes me _very_ tired. And we wouldn’t want that, now will we?” 

The bartender shakes his head, “No Mr. Bane.” 

Magnus lets go of him, the corner of his lips tugging up into a smile. “Good good!” He claps his hands together. “And call me Magnus. Mr. Bane makes me feel... _old_.” 

 

* * *

Magnus hears his bedroom door push open, and quickly grabs his pillow to cover his face. A few seconds later, he hears his curtains pull open and although his eyes are now covered, he can feel the sun’s heat brush up his bare legs. 

“For the love of...” he groans, shifting so that he’s now on his stomach. “You know how much I detest waking up when the sun is out, Catarina!” 

He hears footsteps approach him, but before he can tighten his grip on the pillow, it gets snatched from beneath his head. 

“Sometimes I forget you’re over 400 years old, Magnus,” Catarina says, throwing the pillow onto his back. “Now stop being such a child and get up! We have errands to run.” 

“Errands?” 

Magnus finally opens one eye, as Catarina takes a seat on the edge of his bed. 

"I need to stock up on ingredients for some healing potions,” she reminds him. “There’s been a rise in demon attacks the past few days, and the number of mundanes coming in through the hospital is...It’s bad, Magnus. Something’s happening. I can feel it.” 

Magnus lets out a breath of air before pushing himself up. He rests his chin on Catarina’s shoulder, and smiles. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend, darling.” 

“Sometimes, I think I’m your _only_ friend.” 

At that, Magnus places a hand on his chest. “ _What_?” He gets up on his knees. “I am Magnus Bane! People line up just to see me, my parties are to _die_  for and-” 

“Calm down little Warlock,” Catarina says, clearly unamused by him this morning. “If you are so amazing, let’s see if you can get ready in _less_  than an hour, shall we?” 

A laughter spills out of Magnus’s lips. “Now _that’s_  expecting too much from me, Catarina.” 

* * *

“Goat’s eyes?”

“Check.” 

“Unicorn tears?”

“Check.” 

“Toad’s heart?” 

“Check.” 

“Farie blood?” 

“Now _that_  was a hard one to acquire, wasn’t it? I mean, it’s just a few drops and they act like it’s _gold_  or something. Frankly, I’m offended that-”

“ _Magnus,_ please!” Catarina cries out. “Just confirm that we have it. My shift starts in an hour.”

“Faire blood. _Check_.” 

“Okay, last one on the list. Moon salt?” 

“Check, check, check!” 

Magnus hands Catarina the bag of ingredients just as she crosses off the last item on her list. She takes the bag from him and gently places it on the ground before stepping towards him and wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“Thank you, Magnus,” she says, her voice muffled against his shirt. “This week has been such a long week, and I have to admit...I’ve been a bitch for more than half of it.” 

Magnus places his hands on her shoulder and pulls her back. “You? A bitch? _Never_.” 

Catarina rolls her eyes and gently places a kiss on his cheek. “I have to go. Shift starts soon,” she says, grabbing the bag off the floor. Just as she is about to create a portal to leave, she stops in her steps. “Magnus, be careful. There’s been some Circle members roaming the streets. I’ve passed by a few myself. I thought I was seeing things at first, but the Circle mark was definitely there. I...I don’t know what this all means, and frankly, I haven’t really had the time to care, but...I just wanted to let you know.” 

Magnus nods and ushers her to go. “Now don’t worry about me, Catarina. I’m the high warlock of Brooklyn! I can take care of myself,” he says with a wink.

Catarina smiles and waves a blue hand in the air to conjure up a portal. She yells out a final goodbye before stepping through. 

The portal shuts close and Magnus lets out a sigh as he looks down at his watch. He only has two hours before he has to head back to Pandemonium, but with all the traveling he has done today, all the warlock really wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep for eternity. 

* * *

Another night, another party. 

Magnus stifles a yawn and leans against the back of the couch. The vampire sitting beside him lifts up a drink, and he takes a sip just as something peculiar catches his eyes. 

 _Maybe the night won’t be so boring after all_. 

Magnus quickly uncrosses his legs and gets up from the couch. This is _his_  club! Did they really think he wouldn’t notice two suited men, wearing _sunglasses_ inside a dimly lit dance floor? They weren’t even _dancing_! 

“Circle members aren’t welcome in my club,” Magnus says, his eyes flickering down to the mark on the men’s necks. 

“No worries, warlock,” one man says, “It’s all ancient history.” 

 _That hairstyle is ancient history_.

“Really?” Magnus steps closer, revealing his warlock mark. “To me, it feels like a blink of an eye.” 

As one _foolish_ man approaches him, Magnus raises a hand and restrains him back. He _really_  didn’t want to use any magic tonight. 

The man begins to cough, his body slowly losing oxygen as it becomes harder for him to breathe. Magnus raises the man’s body up from the ground and his gaze flickers to the other man beside him. 

“We’ve endured worse!” The chocking man manages to squeak out. 

Magnus rolls his eyes as he observes the man now hanging in the air. “You’ve _inflicted_  worse.” He turns back to the other circle member. “Leave.” 

The Circle member snarls at him, but he knows not to push the matter. Magnus lets go of the other man, and his body quickly falls onto the floor as he erupts in a fit of coughs. 

“And if you do wish to ‘endure worse’ like you’ve mentioned,” Magnus says, crouching down in front of the gasping man. “Then please come again.” 

The other member quickly grabs the man and drags him across the crowded dance floor. Magnus’s eyes followed the two men and when he sees that they have left his club, he finally conceals his warlock mark. 

"Well that was certainly a mood-killer,” he yells out. 

Fortunately, the music is able to mask the sound of his frustrations. The other partygoers seem to not hear him as their bodies continue to move along the dance floor. 

Now, all Magnus wants to do is go home, but what kind of host would he be if he did that? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello everyone! I haven’t written a fic in a long time nor have I had the inspiration in SUCH A LONG TIME. But my writer’s block is slowly disappearing and at the end of this dark and lonely tunnel lies...MAGNUS BANE. I love this man. Warlock. Too good to be true creature. I love him guys :( And I feel that if you compiled all his scenes, throughout both seasons, it would make up one whole episode and i just think that’s AWFUL. So I’m taking show’s episodes all the way from season 1 and putting my own spin on things. Adding some stuff that may or may not have happened, and mixing it with things that happened in the show. The psych major in me wants to explore this warlock’s mind and he deserves a story. This is my feeble attempt at telling one. Even though there was no Alec yet, this will be a malec story because they are made for each other!!!
> 
> And I currently don’t have a title for this fic, so as the story moves along, give me some suggestions! 
> 
> Oh AND, I haven’t read the Mortal Instruments, and (i might get hate for this) I probably won’t haha Time constraints and all that. So this will strictly be based off the tv show and knowledge I pick up from google or tumblr or other fics! 
> 
> Okay, sorry for the long author’s note. Hopefully you enjoyed the first chapter! Let me know if you guys are interested in this & if you guys want the chapters to be longer! 
> 
> Check out my tumblr: whatadaze.tumblr.com


	2. Amor

Magnus wakes up to the sound of heavy rain.

A shock of white flashes throughout his room, quickly followed by a thunderous roar. 

Chairman Meow lets out a hiss and jumps onto his owner’s bed, clearly annoyed by the loud intrusion.

Magnus raises a hand and rests it against the Chairman’s back to soothe him. They both aren’t too fond of thunderstorms. 

The warlock knows that the storm has taken any chance of him falling back asleep. In fact, he’s been having trouble sleeping since the incident with the two Circle members. When he arrived home that morning, he had went over that night numerous times in his head. 

_How did they get inside the club in the first place?_

His parties are invitation only, and he _certainly_  would’ve remembered inviting Circle members. He has always been careful in making sure that his Downworlders were safe, and yet, the people who want to kill them the most easily slipped inside his territory. 

Catarina was right. Something is happening, and it isn’t good. 

As if the heavens are agreeing with him, another shock of thunder claps throughout the sky, causing Chairman Meow to let out another annoyed hiss. 

* * *

Somehow, between the storm and the Chairman’s constant hissing, Magnus is able to fall back into a fitful sleep.

Unfortunately, waking up isn’t much better for the grumpy warlock.

Magnus rolls out of bed and raises a brow when he notices a letter sitting on his bedside table. The burnt edges confirmed that it was a fire message, and the neatly folded parchment could only be that of Catarina’s. 

He picks up the letter and quickly unfolds it, his eyes scanning the hastily scrawled out scribbles lining the page. 

_Magnus-_

_The Circle is back._

_Valentine’s men kidnapped that Shadowhunter, Jocelyn Fairchild, last night. Before she was taken, she took a potion that put her into a coma—clearly the work of a warlock. I’m not sure who brewed it for her, but I can assure you that it wasn’t me. It wasn’t you, was it Magnus?_ _I know that you and Jocelyn have a history._

_I don’t have much time, but I’m writing you this message to inform you that three warlocks have been murdered last night. Valentine is on the lookout for the one who brewed the potion so that he can reverse its effects. He won’t stop until he finds who did it._

_You need to help the others, Magnus. You’re their only hope._

_Good luck,  
_ _Catarina_

Magnus quickly burns any evidence of the letter, and rushes to his closet to change out of his sleepwear. He knows that Catarina will be safe. That’s not what he is worried about. She’s always been good at taking care of herself, but the rest of the warlocks? Once again, Catarina was right. They need his help. 

Magnus waves his hand and creates a portal to Pandemonium. He sends a message to every Warlock within a hundred mile radius of Brooklyn to portal themselves into the club. His hidden lair will finally get some use.

* * *

Magnus conjures up a portal for the warlocks as they begin to appear.

“Ah, Aleesia! Beautiful as ever!” he says, ushering the warlock through. “Watch your step now, dear!” 

One by one, warlocks from all over the city enter through his portal and into safety. Magnus must admit, this may be one of his greatest heroic feats. The thought cheers him up a bit, and he claps his hands together as he continues to direct the warlocks to the portal.

“Hurry up, warlocks!” he announces. “Last train to salvation!” 

He tries to send a smile to each of the warlocks as they pass by, especially the younger ones. It’s unfortunate that they need to hide, but it is necessary for their survival. 

“Magnus!” a voice cries out.

  _Ah, Dorothy._

“Why haven’t you been answering my messages?” she asks, clamping a hand on his shoulder. “Jocelyn’s missing and I-”

“I’ve been a little busy protecting our people,” he says, trying his best to hide his annoyance. He never understood the strange attachment she had to Jocelyn and her little girl. 

“What?” A look of concern flashes through her features as she finally notices the large portal behind her. 

“Jocelyn’s _brilliant_  plan is screwed,” he explains. “Valentine knows a warlock brewed the potion that put her to sleep. He’s hunting warlocks down, one by one.”

His grip on the empty glass in his hand tightens as the thought angers him once again. 

“What, so you’re leaving?”  she asks, clearly shocked by his explanation. 

“You’ve always been the quick study, Dorothy,” he says. “It’s our only choice until we know what Valentine’s up to.” He ushers her towards the portal. “Let’s go!” 

“N-No! I can’t!” she cries out, grabbing onto his arm to stop him. 

At this point, it’s hard to feign his indifference, and Magnus doesn’t try to mask his anger anymore. 

“I’ve been portaling all over the city looking for Clary and my magic is dangerously low,” she says, panic lacing her voice. “I need your help.” 

Magnus raises a pointed brow at the warlock. “Are you really willing to risk your life for a _shadowhunter_?” 

 _They’re the reason this whole problem started in the first place,_ Magnus wants to shout out. Of course, he keeps his thoughts to himself. 

“This isn’t _us_  versus _them,_ Magnus. If Valentine gets the cup, we’re all doomed,” she warns. 

“Valentine can’t kill what he can’t find,” Magnus replies simply. He begins to back away, but just as he reaches the portal’s entrance, he turns back around and offers her his hand. “Last chance to save yourself.” 

 _Take it, you fool_.

But her downward glance is enough for Magnus, and frankly, he isn’t in the mood to beg. If she wants to die because of the shadowhunter girl, then so be it.

* * *

Magnus had to admit, he did feel a _little_  guilty after the portal closed between them.  

After all, Dorothy is still a warlock—one of his kind. 

And he likes to take pride in the fact that he cares for not just the warlocks in his city, but all Downworlders alike. 

But the foolish girl chose the life of a shadowhunter over her own, and that’s where Magnus’s guilt ends. 

Magnus glances around at the warlocks scattered around his new hidden lair and decides that one warlock’s life is nothing compared to all of their’s.

He holds onto that thought for the rest of that dreadful day, but unfortunately, it doesn’t come easy once Magnus loses cite of Dorothy’s magic. When a warlock’s magic can no longer be sensed, it usually means one thing—death. 

Magnus takes a seat and downs the rest of his glass, silently toasting the warlock, no matter how foolish she was. 

* * *

_The rain trickles down his legs and to the puddle forming inside his shoes._

_Despite the frigid air, he is warm._

_The boy crouches down in front of a lone toad resting underneath some mud. He checks his surroundings before snapping his small fingers. A blue spark emits from his fingertips and a smirk forms on his lips—clearly satisfied with himself._

_“See little toad? I wasn’t lying,” he whispers.  
_

_The rain continues to pour down on him, but neither the boy or the toad seem to be fazed by it as they both stare down at the blue light. It begins to slowly fade from the boy’s fingertips._

_“I’m going to show momma,” he says. “I know that she’ll like it.”  
_

“Ouch!” Magnus jolts up from the couch, causing the letter on his lap to fall onto the floor. Smoke is still rising from the paper when Magnus carefully picks it up, and he blows on the edges to cool it down. Once he unfolds the message, a frown forms on his face when he notices the rune mark scribbled on the corner.

Shadowhunters had a bad habit of expecting him to be at their beck and call. Shouldn’t they know that Valentine is on the hunt for warlocks?

_Fools._

_-and we know that you're the one who took Clary’s memories. She needs it back to find her mother. It’s an urgent matter, Magnus. We need you to retrieve them._

“Well, that’s a bit impossible," he mutters, but his eyes suddenly widen when he reaches the end of the letter.

_And if you're second guessing in helping us, we have something you can’t turn down. The ruby necklace. You’ve been missing it, haven’t you?_

_Meet us at Pandemonium tonight._

_\- Jace Wayland_

"Well if they want to meet, then I guess I’ll have to grant them their wish,” he sighs. “I’ve just been _dying_ for a party.” 

“A party?” a voice interrupts. 

Magnus looks up at the warlock and silently hands him the letter. He then takes out his compact and removes the smudges from under his eyes before conjuring himself a wineglass. Staying indoors has _not_ been doing wonders for his skin, and seeing his reflection just now confirmed that. He needs to get out, and now he has an excuse to do so.

Magnus pours himself a drink and takes a long sip. 

“And you’re agreeing to this?” Elias asks. “You can’t be _serious,_ Magnus! It’s too dangerous!” 

Magnus smiles. “Didn’t you know, my dear. I’ve always lived on the edge and look at me! I’m still alive.” He takes the letter from Elias and crumples it inside his hand before burning it. “And no worries, Elias. I’ll be going alone.” 

He claps a hand on the warlock’s shoulder before stepping away to talk to the others. As he makes his way around the common area, he can hear heavy footsteps quickly approaching him.

“Magnus!” Elias calls out. “Consider the other warlocks.” 

Magnus forces a smile before turning to face him. “When did you become so talkative?”

“Magnus, I _beg_ you to reconsider,” he pleads. 

“Always frowning, Elias,” Magnus points out. “You may be immortal but mmm,” Magnus traces his finger along Elias’s face. “You’re not immune to crow’s feet.” 

The warlock jerks away from his touch, anger quickly filling his dark features. 

“You cannot attend this meeting,” he grits out. “No matter what the Shadowhunter is offering. Valentine is getting close and it’s far too dangerous for you to leave the lair.” 

Magnus raises his glass and watches the dark liquid swirl around. “I was alive when the Dead Sea was _just_  a lake that was feeling a little poorly,” he says, his eyes shifting away from the glass and back to the warlock. “While I value your counsel, so much red brick makes me feel like a caged animal.” 

He walks towards the window and glares at the brick wall. 

“Is one necklace really worth the risk?” Elias asks.

“ _This_ necklace is,” Magnus replies, his tone shifting. “This discussion is over. I will meet with Clary Fairchild and the Wayland boy.” 

It is rare to see Magnus assert his power as High Warlock, and Elias knows not to press further on the issue, no matter how he feels about it. 

Magnus begins to walk away but spins back around. “Mm!” he cries out, quickly back to his normal self. “Go to the Spiral Labryinth and tell Tessa that we need more shields,” he instructs. “While I’m gone, have every warlock maintain the protective wards.” He watches the others sitting around the common space. “I may be prepared to take on Valentine,” he says, gently grabbing Elias’s chin. “But my guests are not.” 

Magnus hands him his wineglass with a wink. Frankly, Elias needs it more than him.

“Drink up.”

* * *

Magnus closes his eyes and takes in a long, deep breath. As he slowly exhales, he can’t help but smile.

Who knew that the smell of smoke, sweat, and alcohol could have such a calming effect? 

He has to admit, it was a bit of a challenge to plan a party in such short notice, but as he watches the dancing vampires along his dance floor, Magnus mentally pats himself on the back for a job well done. Only  _he_ can throw a party despite the fact that a murderous rogue Shadowhunter is out looking for him. 

He checks his reflection one last time, trying to forget about the fact that his dear Shadowhunter friends were late. Frankly, he shouldn’t have expected anything less. He shuts his compact and takes another sip of his drink. 

Oh, how he missed this. 

“Magnus!” 

His peace is interrupted as the Wayland boy walks towards him. While the boy _is_  handsome, it’s the redheaded girl walking behind him that really catches Magnus's attention. 

“Clary Fairchild,” he purrs, walking over to them. “You’ve grown into a _beautiful_ woman.” 

“Magnus Bane,” she replies with a harsh tone. “So you’re the one who stole my memories.” 

“At your mother’s request,” Magnus clarifies. “She knew the risk.” He then turns to the Wayland boy and offers up his hand. “Show me the jewelry, _Shadowhunter_.” 

The blonde slowly opens his fist to finally reveal the ruby necklace. Magnus feels a grin spread across his face as he quickly reaches out for it. 

“Whoa,” Jace says, pulling his hand back. “Give Clary back her memories and you get the jewelry.” 

Magnus scoffs. “I have to confirm its authenticity.” He sticks out his hand again and the boy reluctantly hands it over. When the necklace falls onto his palm, Magnus feels his heart race. It's just as he remembered. He flips it over and sees the engraved word he had etched in many years ago:  _Amor_. 

“ _Amor verus numquam moritur_ ,” he says quietly. “True love cannot die.” He runs a finger along the word and lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh how I’ve missed this jewel.”

Unfortunately, his moment is cut short. 

“Now it’s time for you to pay up,” Clary says impatiently. 

Magnus closes his fist around the necklace and smiles. “I wish I could retrieve your memories, but I no longer have them.”

“What?” She looks over at the blonde, her face quickly draining of color. “Where are they?” 

The warlock forces a smile but avoids the Shadowhunter’s gaze. “I fed them to a memory demon for safe keeping,” he blurts out. 

“Why the hell would you do that?” Jace cries out. 

“To protect Clary and the cup,” Magnus explains as he slowly loses his patience. “If Valentine ever captured me, he could torture Clary’s memories out of me. Just like he tortured _Dot_.” 

“Tortured?” Clary interrupts, worry spreading across her face. “Wait, is Dot okay?” 

Her genuine concern mixed with the panic in her voice catches Magnus’s attention. “You don’t know?” he asks, his tone more serious. “Dot is dead.” 

“What?” Clary shakes her head in disbelief. “How do you know?” 

“I can’t feel her magic anymore,” he sighs. “Valentine killed her because she would not betray your mother.” 

“Oh my god," Clary mutters, as her eyes begin to fill with tears. 

Magnus rests a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Come with me, Clary,” he says softly. “My lair will offer you the protection no _Shadowhunter_ ever could.” He looks over at the Wayland boy, just as he lets out a scoff. 

“No!” Clary suddenly protests. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you!” 

“Don’t be a fool,” Magnus says. “Your mother would want you to live.” 

“Then help me get my memories back from whatever demon you gave them to,” she instructs, taking a step towards him. 

The fire in her blue eyes looks so much like her mother's, that for a moment, Magnus forgets that he's talking to  _Clary_ and not Jocelyn. 

“Valentine is hunting _you_  too,” he finally explains. “And every moment we’re outside my lair’s protection is a moment Valentine gets closer to finding us.” 

Magnus quickly claps his hands together and conjures up a portal back to his lair. “Come with me,” he says, offering her his hand. 

The girl looks at it for a moment just before glancing back at Jace. Magnus sees the boy shake his head and his frustration towards the arrogant Shadowhunter grows even more (if that's possible). 

“I won’t offer again,” he says impatiently.

“No,” she finally replies. “No, I won’t hide from my problems and neither should you-” 

“Look out!” 

Magnus manages to duck down just as an arrow flies over his head. He turns around just as it pierces the man standing behind him. His amber eyes widen when he notices the mark on the fallen man's neck. He scans the area for any other Circle members, but fortunately, he doesn't spot any more in the area.

As the warlock's body sags with relief, he finally looks over to see who shot the arrow. 

“Who are _you_?” The words stumble out of his lips as he stares at the man on top of the staircase. 

Tall, dark, and handsome were always his favorite combination.

The runes on his body are enough for Magnus to realize he, too, is a Shadowhunter, but that doesn't stop him from watching as his handsome savior runs towards him and over to the dead Circle member. Magnus has to avert his eyes from staring at the man's ass when he crouches down, and with much pain and self-control, Magnus wills himself to finally look away.

Being dead wouldn't help  _either_ of them, now will it? If the Circle member was here, then that means that Valentine is already aware of his whereabouts.

He needs to leave. Now. 

“Magnus, wait!” Clary calls out, grabbing onto his arm. “You’re my only hope.” 

“Valentine found us,” Magnus says. “I warned your mother this might happen.”

And with a final glance, he jumps through the portal despite her cries of protest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay Alec! 
> 
> This chapter was a lot longer than the first because I really wanted Alec to be in this one (sadly, it was quite short though). I know that I'm following quite close to the show right now, and most of the dialogue and events in the chapter aren't new to you guys. I'm still trying to figure out how closely I want to follow the show because I'm trying to focus more on Magnus's POV during all these events while exploring his past.
> 
> With that being said, I know I explained that I haven't read the books so I'm getting most of my information from the TV show and the series' wiki page. However, I am planning on putting my own spin on Magnus's history and character. The main stuff will be the same (childhood, relationship with Camille, MALEC, etc.) but if you notice that I begin to deviate, please don't freak out! I'm doing it on purpose! Also, a big thank you for those who have left kudos on this work, it really means a lot! I know that there are a lot of Malec fics roaming around (trust me, I probably read all of them) so the fact that this fandom is still interested in new fics makes me really happy (& I'm sure other writers as well)! 
> 
> Okay whew, sorry for another long author's note. Hopefully, this will be the last one (haha) Thank you lovelies!
> 
> Check out my tumblr: whatadaze.tumblr.com


	3. Liquid Courage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting on a Monday bc no Shadowhunters :(

Magnus closes his eyes and listens to the cars rush by under him. 

The granite is cold against his head, but the sound of cars honking, the wind blowing, and the occasional “fuck you!”’s being thrown around help the warlock calm down after all he’s been through earlier that day.

Everything went to shit the moment Magnus returned from Pandemonium.

Elias is now dead, along with six other warlocks—s _even_ , counting Dorothy—and it’s only been four days since Valentine’s return. 

Magnus has no desire of being added to Valentine’s death list, at least not now anyway. He still has so much to accomplish, such as going on a date with Alexander Lightwood. 

Speaking of the handsome shadowhunter, Magnus has to admit he was pleasantly surprised to learn that his intuition was right—Alexander has a thing for men. If the incident with the memory demon wasn’t telling enough, Alec’s reaction to the whole ordeal definitely was.

Magnus can’t stop thinking about the look on the shadowhunter’s handsome face. It was a look he hadn’t seen in a very long time and one that he is very familiar with. 

The warlock opens his eyes and admires the night sky looming above him before jumping up to his feet. He walks along the bridge’s tower and looks down at the cars lining under him. He shoves his hands into his pockets as the wind begins to pick up. With everything that has been going on, Magnus wishes that he could live a simple life of a mundane.

But then he thinks about a certain shadowhunter with hazel eyes and a crooked smile and takes it all back.

* * *

Magnus doesn’t remember the last time he’s been awake during the day. Normally, he’d be sleeping off a hangover right now, but it was almost noon and the warlock was wide awake.

He was also bored out of his mind. 

The warlock hasn’t stepped out of his apartment since the demon ritual. Clary was right. If Valentine was able to track his location before, he’d be able to do it again. Going to Pandemonium, or anywhere for that matter, would be too risky.

Magnus looks down at his phone for what seemed like the hundredth time before he feels Chariman Meow brush up against his leg. He smiles and reaches down to pick him up, snuggling the cat against his chest. “At least I have you, Chairman,” he says, nuzzling his nose against his head. “Such a reliable partner in crime, aren’t you? Better than your brother, that’s for sure.” 

He turns and glares at Church who was napping on the windowsill.

“You’re bored too, aren’t you?” he asks, smiling down at the cat in his arms. “What should we do about this problem, Chairman? _Surely_  you must have some kind of idea.” 

Chairman’s deep green eyes bore into his owner before jumping out of his arms. 

“You’re absolutely right!” Magnus proclaims. “I should take a leap of faith! I can die at any moment and I’d like to do so _after_  asking Alexander Lightwood out on a date. Go out with a last hurrah!” 

He pulls out his phone and quickly flips through his messages. His lips stretch into a wide grin when he finally finds what he’s looking for. 

 _ **11:32 p.m.**    
_ _Hello, Isabelle! Just making sure you got back to the institute in one piece._

 **11:33 p.m.  
** Isabelle Lightwood  
Hey Magnus. Don't worry, we’re all still breathing. Thanks for the help tonight...I wish it had gone better. 

_**11:33 p.m.  
** As do I. How is your brother? _

**11:34 p.m.  
** Isabelle Lightwood  
Not so great. He was silent the whole way back. He won’t even talk to me or Jace. 

_**11:34 p.m.  
** Perhaps I can be of assistance? I am quite familiar with what he may be feeling. If you don’t mind, of course. _

**11:34 p.m.  
** Isabelle Lightwood   
At this point, anything will help. If you think screaming Alec is bad, silent Alec is way worse. Here’s his number.

Magnus’s thumb hovers over the number. 

Would Alec be upset that he called? 

Annoyed?

The warlock really _did_ want to help the young shadowhunter. Surely he wouldn’t be mad, right?

The warlock snaps his fingers and a drink quickly appears in his hand. He downs the contents in the glass and once he feels his body buzzing with liquid courage, he finally presses the number. 

Magnus raises the phone to his ear and with every ring, his heartbeat quickens. 

_Maybe he’s busy and just-_

“Hello? Who is this?” 

Magnus straightens up and begins pacing along his living room. Of course his voice sounds _delicious_  over the phone. 

“Alexander! Hi, it’s Magnus,” the warlock manages to say. “We met the other day. You know...with the demon?” 

“Uh, yeah...” Alec recalls. “Yeah, hey. What’s up?” 

Magnus smiles to himself as he begins flipping through the pages of one of his spell books. “Well I was just thinking. It was _really_  nice getting to know you,” he explains. “You seem... _sympathetic_.” The warlock stops pacing and takes a deep breath. “Would you like to go out for a drink some time?”

For a few seconds, he is met with silence and Magnus checks to make sure the line wasn’t disconnected. 

“That sounds fun,” Alec finally replies. “Um...when?” 

Magnus feels as if his magic will burst out of him. “How about right now?” he suggests.

“Um...you know, now’s not a good time for me,” he says. “How about another time?”

Before Magnus has a chance to reply, the shadowhunter hangs up the phone. While his reply isn’t what Magnus had expected, he finds himself smiling.  

“Playing hard to get,” he hums. “I _love_ a challenge.” 

Magnus clicks on the number and adds it to his contacts. He quickly types up a message, his smile widening with every word. After hitting send, he pockets his phone and falls back onto the couch, trying (and failing) to calm his racing heart. 

* * *

_“Magnus, there’s no use! He’s dead,” Ragnor cries out, pulling his friend away from the dead body._

_“How could he?” Magnus says quietly. He stares down at his hands and tries to wipe away the dead warlock's blood. “Valentine murdered a warlock. He broke the Accords.”  
_

_Ragnor summons a washcloth and hands it to him. “I know,” he replies grimly. “And he will pay for what he did.”_

_The two warlocks lean against the brick wall, both too tired to move just yet. They know that in a matter of minutes, the dead warlock’s body will begin to disintegrate, but for now,_ _Magnus tries to forget the look of fear in the warlock’s eyes as the light slowly left them._

_He finds himself rubbing his bloody hands against the hard concrete._

_The pain is calming._

Magnus startles awake, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. He studies his hands before wiping away the sweat dripping down his forehead. The sun is long gone, replaced by the moonlight now peaking through his curtains. 

These dreams were becoming more frequent, especially since the night of the demon ritual. There are rumors swirling around in the Downworld of the Circle starting up horrifying experiments again. Just the thought brings chills up Magnus’s spine. 

As high warlock, it’s his duty to make sure that what happened nineteen years ago never happens again. 

The buzzer sounds, making Church and Chairman jump from their beds. Magnus rushes out of his room and snaps on his tunic as he approaches the front door. 

The buzzer continues to ring and Magnus finally presses the call button. 

“Who is-” 

“MAGNUS!” a frightened voice yells out. “MAGNUS! Open up! Please!” 

The warlock immediately recognizes Clary’s voice and buzzes her in. A few moments later, his door swings open just as Clary and another boy drag in a bloodied and beaten Luke Garroway into his lair. 

"What happened?” Magnus asks, summoning a sheet and laying it down on his couch. 

“He was attacked!” the boy says, struggling under Luke’’s weight. 

“He needs a warlock,” Clary explains. “He needs _you_.” 

Magnus ushers them towards the couch and instructs them to carefully lay the man down. He is clearly delusional, crying out for Jocelyn as his eyes search the room. The warlock notices the multiple bites covering his body and his mind already has a grim suspicion. 

"Was he bitten by an alpha?” Magnus asks.

The boy with the glasses replies, “Yeah, why?”

 _Of course he was_.

Magnus looks down at the bleeding man. “Three, two, one...”

As expected, the man cries out, his brown eyes quickly morphing into that of his werewolf form. Magnus runs into his library and hears the boy calling out for him. 

“Hold him down!” Magnus instructs. 

He quickly grabs a Baobab tree bark and a numbing salve before returning to the living room. He places the bark between the man’s teeth. “It’ll take a few moments to take effect,” he explains, holding the man’s head down.

“What’s happening to him?” Clary asks. 

“Random werewolf transformation,” Magnus replies. “It’s a side effect of the poison from the alpha bite.” 

He notices that Luke has begun to calm down—well, passed out—but he takes it as a good sign. He didn’t want a werewolf tearing up his new Indian rug. Magnus uses this time to begin applying the salve on his wounds. Unfortunately, it’s only a temporary solution to the problem. While the salve will keep Luke from feeling the pain, it won’t extract the poison from his body. 

Magnus rushes back to his library and gathers his cauldron, spell book, and some ingredients he has in stock. “The bark will stop the transformation for now,” he says, returning to the living room. Clary and the boy, Simon, separate from what appears to be an embrace. Normally, the warlock would make a snide comment, but right now, there’s a werewolf transformation he needs to stop. “Luke needs an antidote to stop the poison in his system,” Magnus explains. “But I don’t have all the ingredients here.” 

 _Damn, Catarina_.

“Just tell me what you need and how to get it,” Clary tells him.

Magnus stops in his step. “ _No_ ,” he says, pointing at the young girl. “You’re staying here. Luke will need you if he wakes up.” 

“ _When_  he wakes up,” Clary grits out. 

“I’ll go,” Simon says, just as another voice offers to do the same. 

Jace walks in, blood running down his usually handsome face. Magnus approaches him and rests a hand on his chin. “What happened to _you_?” he asks before continuing on to gather the rest of the materials.

Magnus hears Simon and Jace begin to go at it with each other, and while he _loves_  a good catfight, he’s currently not in the mood. 

“What do you need for the antidote?” Jace finally asks. 

“Phoenix eyes, moon salt, and Idris fulgurite,” Magnus replies, placing the rest of his ingredients on the table. As he measures out each ingredient needed for the base of the potion, he continues to hear Jace and Simon bicker behind him. 

_They just need to fuck and let it all out of their system._

Magnus hums to himself as the thought amuses him. 

"-I don’t need _him_!” Jace shouts.

“Too bad,” Simon retorts. “You’re getting me. We’ll be right back.” 

As he hears them getting ready to leave, Magnus quickly dumps the rest of the potion into the cauldron before calling out to them. “One more thing!” The two stop in their steps and Magnus smiles. “I need Alexander.” 

Magnus notices the color quickly leave Jace’s face. “Uh, why do you need Alec?” he asks. 

“Virgin Shadowhunter energy,” Magnus explains cooly. 

So it’s a little white lie. No one’s getting hurt. 

“That explains _so_  much,” Simon scoffs.

Jace clears his throat, a nervous look filling his features. “Um, Alec...yeah, I can’t...”

It’s then that Clary finally interrupts, clearly fed up by whatever was going on between him and Alec. “Jace, just ask,” she begs. “Please. You guys need to talk.” 

Magnus raises a hand to hide the amused smile on his face. If he hadn’t already liked Clary Fairchild before, he _certainly_  does now.

* * *

Luke is getting worse. 

Magnus doesn’t know how long he can contain the transformation. Without the antidote, Luke will transform within the hour. As Magnus sends another bout of magic through the werewolf, he feels his power quickly draining out of him. 

“I’m running out of magic,” Magnus grunts. 

“What do I do?” Clary asks.

“I can’t leave him,” he explains. “But the potion stock still needs Komodo scales. Find it, and add the rest when they get here. You’ll have to feed it to Luke.” 

“What about you?” She rushes around the room, picking up every bottle she sees for the missing ingredient. 

“I’ll hold on as long as I can!” 

Luke screams out and Magnus exerts more of his magic into him. He knows he won’t last long—fifteen minutes at most, but even that’s pushing it. The warlock wills himself to stay conscious as he focuses on maintaining control on his magic. 

 _Oh, shit_. 

Magnus finds it harder to stay awake and his vision begins to blur. He can feel his magic slipping away from his control as his power is almost depleted. He isn’t used to feeling this weak. 

The warlock struggles to keep his body upright but finally succumbs to its wishes. To his surprise, he doesn’t collapse onto the floor, but instead, onto a warm body. He looks up to see Alexander staring down at him with concern. 

“Help me,” Magnus says softly, raising a shaky hand. “I need your strength.” 

For a moment, Alec only stares at the warlock’s hand but he quickly snaps out of his thoughts and grabs onto it. “Take what you need,” he urges, tightening his hold. 

Magnus feels the connection immediately, and draws out Alec’s energy into his own body. Slowly but surely, he feels his power begin to restore. The magic grows stronger and Magnus finds himself smiling with relief. 

“Clary!” 

Magnus turns his head just as Jace and Simon storm into the room. Clary quickly joins them and takes the rest of the ingredients from them before running back to the cauldron. 

The warlock can smell the finished antidote and within a few seconds, Clary is by Luke’s side. She carefully lifts his head and pours the potion into his mouth. Magnus loosens his grasp on Alec’s hand as soon as he senses that the transformation has ceased. Unfortunately, Magnus forgets that his body is low on energy and begins to feel lightheaded when he cuts their connection. 

Alec manages to catch him as his body falls back and Magnus glances down at their hands—still intertwined. 

“Hey, you okay?” Alec asks softly.

Just for once, Magnus allows himself to rest his body against Alexander’s warmth—relishing the feeling of having someone by his side.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magnus is always helping everyone out, but who helps him? Poor warlock :(
> 
> Oh, and thank you to everyone who left a comment or kudos! They mean so much to me!


	4. A Man of Reason (or not)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for another update!

Magnus likes to think that he is a man of reason. 

After all, his ability to decipher right from wrong, keep his emotions in check, and control his urges is the reason why he was able to make it this far. 

That isn’t to say that he hasn’t had a few bumps along the way. 

He’s experienced his fair share of alcohol-induced adventures (don’t even get him started on the twenties), deaths of loved ones, and of course,  _heartbreaks_.  

While it wasn’t easy, they all played a role in making his long, immortal life a bit more... _entertaining_ , to say the least. 

But now here comes along a Shadowhunter who, not only, is  _very_  easy on the eyes, but asks the warlock if he’s alright and saves his life—twice. 

Magnus agreed hundreds of years ago that he would not involve himself in any Shadowhunter business if possible, but now here he is, willingly walking into one that  _possibly_  can’t end well.  

And while every single bone in his body, every nerve, every _cell_  is screaming at him to walk away, he can’t. 

Maybe he’s not such a man of reason after all. 

* * *

 Magnus fluffs up another pillow and carefully places it behind Luke’s back.

“This one is my  _favorite_ ,” he explains. “Really conforms to your body...like sleeping on a cloud.” 

He picks up another pillow but Luke raises his hand to stop him.

“Thank you, Magnus,” he says, his eyes shifting to the bedroom door. 

“You’re welcome,” Magnus hums, sending a smile towards the Clary’s way. “I’ll leave you two alone.” 

He makes his way out the bedroom but just as he is about to leave, he places a gentle hand on the young girl’s shoulder. “Go easy on him,” he whispers.

Magnus sends a wink before ushering her to go inside. He shuts the door behind him and lets out at tired sigh.

 _I deserve a drink_.

He returns to the living room and can’t help but laugh when he sees Alexander on his hands and knees…scrubbing the blood off his leather couch. The warlock would be lying if he said he didn’t admire the sight before him.

He walks over to his drink cart and begins to make a drink. “You know I have magic for that, right?” Magnus finally says, pouring the cocktail into a glass.

Alec frowns at the blood soaked towel in his hand. “I think you’ve exerted yourself enough for one day,” he replies before continuing to scrub the couch.

Magnus swears his heart skipped a beat.

“Drink break?” He lifts up his hands to offer him the cocktail. “It’ll be worth your while.” 

Alec gets up to his feet and discards the bloodied towel. When he takes the cocktail, Magnus snaps his fingers, creating a blue flame over the drink.

“To us,” he chimes, watching the Shadowhunter’s eyes light up in amazement. Alec raises his glass towards Magnus before taking a sip. The look on his face made it clear that he isn’t much of a drinker.

“Why did you ask for me when Clary and Jace were both here?” Alec suddenly asks. 

Magnus laughs. “Hmm, Jace didn’t tell you?” 

Alec shakes his head. 

The warlock takes a sip of his drink and turns so that he’s facing the window. “It doesn’t matter,” he says. “It was a lie anyway.” 

Magnus feels his face heat up and knows it isn’t because of the alcohol. 

“Are warlocks always this cryptic?” Alec asks, his voice laced with amusement. 

Magnus takes a sip of his drink. “I’m not being cryptic,” he explains. “I’m being  _coy_.” He turns back around so that he’s facing the Shadowhunter again, and the way Alexander’s looking at him really  _does_  make the warlock’s heart skip a beat this time. He takes a step towards him. 

“Let me spell it out for you,” he continues softly. “I wanted to see you again.”

"Why?” 

“Why’d you come?” Magnus presses, taking another step towards him. 

As the gap between them shortens, the room begins to feel hotter. 

“I-I’m not sure,” Alec breathes. 

“For almost a century,” Magnus says. “I’ve closed myself off to feeling anything for anyone—man or woman.” He tilts his head as he observes Alexander’s face. “You’ve unlocked something in me.”

Only a few steps are stopping Magnus from reaching up and bringing the Shadowhunter’s lips down on his. With every second that passes, he gets closer to giving in to his desires, but the sound of a cellphone ringing makes both men jump back.

“ _Shit_ ,” Alec mutters, digging through his back pocket. “Hello?” he answers before mouthing a quick apology. “Oh, hi mother.”

Magnus feels his shoulders drop with relief. Who knew  _Maryse Lightwood_  would be the one to save him from making a huge mistake? 

He was _this_ close to kissing the Shadowhunter. 

The _virgin_  Shadowhunter. 

The virgin Shadowhunter who isn’t even out of the  _closet_ yet! 

Magnus lifts up his glass to take another drink, but his eyes drift back to Alexander’s face. He notices that its now filling with concern. 

“Of course,” he hears Alexander reply. “I’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone and his mouth pulls into a grim smile. “Duty calls,” he sighs, putting down his drink.

“Ah, furrowed brows,” Magnus points out. “Maryse must be recruiting you for something… _unseemly_.”

Alec looks down at his hands, his cheeks now with a rosy tint. “Listen Magnus…I-I wish could-” he stammers. “I just…I-I don’t know what-” 

“I understand,” Magnus interrupts, placing a gentle finger on his lips. The warlock notes that his lips are soft and he swears it’s not his magic tingling his fingertips. “Stay for just one more drink?” he asks, handing him his glass. “And then decide.”

* * *

When Alec first took a sip of his cocktail earlier that night, Magnus knew by the look on his face that the Shadowhunter isn’t much of a drinker.

What he  _didn’t_  know is how much of a lightweight Alexander Lightwood really is. Magnus bites back a laugh as he studies Alexander’s handsome face. He looks much younger when he’s sleeping, all the usual creases and furrowed brows nowhere to be seen.

“Well  _this_  certainly wasn’t how I pictured tonight to go,” Magnus sighs. 

He snaps his fingers and a blanket instantly falls into his arms. After carefully placing it over Alexander’s body, Magnus is tempted to run a finger down the man’s jaw.

 _He really does have a nice jawline,_ he muses. “Just for a sec-”

“MAGNUS!” 

The warlock quickly retracts his hand and places a silent ward around the sleeping Shadowhunter. Magnus knows that if he wakes up, he’ll insist that he needs to leave and...he likes having Alexander’s company—even  _if_  he’s fast asleep.

“You really don’t need to yell, biscuit,” he says softly. 

Clary urges Magnus to follow her into his library and he takes a last glance to make sure Alexander is sleeping before following the girl.

“Now what is it that’s got you all fired up my dear?” Magnus asks, flopping back into his chair. 

“I know where the cup is,” she says. 

Well this news certainly peaks his interest.

“Come again?” Jace interrupts. He steps into the library, equally concerned by this revelation.

“Tarot cards,” she explains. “My mom…she must’ve painted them  _years_  ago but the Mortal Cup has to be hidden inside the Ace of Cups. The card looks exactly like it.” 

Magnus’ eyes drift over to the Wayland boy and he sees the same look of concern reflecting off his face. 

“Wait, w-why aren’t you guys happy about this?” Clary asks, her eyes flickering between the two of them. “All we have to do is find… _Dot_.” 

“If Dot had the cards when she was taken then we don’t have much time,” Jace says grimly. “If Valentine gets his hands on the cup-”

“We’d know,” Magnus interrupts, getting up from his seat. “If Valentine started creating Shadowhunters or gained control of demons…” He begins to pace around the room. “It’d be like _Beyonce_ riding on a dinosaur through Times Square. People would notice.” 

“But he  _can_  control demons,” Clary recalls. “I’ve seen it.” 

“Mm, paying off a few demons is  _easy_ ,” Magnus drawls. “Especially since they rarely survive long enough to collect.” 

“Still waiting on Valentine’s thank you card,” Jace jokes. 

“Opening the gates of hell,” Magnus continues. “ _That’s_ a little more tricky.” 

Silence falls between the three of them as they each get lost in their own thoughts.

“Valentine doesn’t have the cards,” a voice chimes in. 

Luke already looks much better than he did a few hours earlier. “I do,” he explains. “They’re in my desk back at the precinct.” The three of them stare at him in confusion so the man continues. “When Clary went missing, I went to the loft and cleared everything out because I didn’t want the Circle to track her.”

“That’s great!” Clary lets out a shaky laugh. “This should be easy.” 

Magnus rolls his eyes at her naiveté. “Hm, that’s what General Custer said.” 

“Magnus is right,” Luke agrees. “Valentine has spies everywhere—even in the NYPD. We have to be discreet.” 

“Discreet?” Clary repeats. “You look like something out of _The Mummy_ movie.”

Magnus raises a hand to cover his laugh. 

“We’ll go in the morning,” Luke says. “Werewolf healing, remember? This is nothing a couple hours of beauty sleep can’t fix.” 

While all seems settled, it’s Jace that finally speaks up. “Alec will be  _furious_  if he wakes up to find that we’ve gone rogue again,” he grits. “Sometimes I wish he could just-”

The warlock claps his hands together and smiles. “Now you let  _me_  worry about Alexander,” he assures him. “While you three go off to find the Mortal Cup, I’ll stay here and…make sure he’s busy.” 

Jace seems conflicted by going against his parabatai, but it only lasts for a second as Clary grabs his arm.

“Alec will understand,” she assures him.

Magnus sits back on his chair and crosses his legs. He can see the Wayland boy weighing out his options but the warlock already knows what he will choose.

* * *

Magnus wakes up with a stiff back and achy joints.

A groan escapes his lips as he stretches his arms over his head. Just as he gets up from his chair, he hears a loud crash sounding from his kitchen followed by a string of curses. The warlock chuckles as he walks out towards the commotion.

Alec is on his knees, picking up the broken pieces of what presumably _used_ to be a mug.

“You’re always on your hands and knees, Alexander,” Magnus says before snapping his fingers. The shattered pieces raise from the ground and instantly re-form back into its original shape. “You’re my guest, dear. Allow _me_ to serve _you_.”

A blush creeps up into Alec’s face as he gets back up. “I…I was gonna make some coffee and knocked the mug down,” he explains. “I didn’t mean to break it but I didn’t know my way around and-“

“Alexander,” Magnus stops him. “It’s quite alright. It’s just a mug and now good as new.”

With another snap of his fingers, the mug fills up with hot coffee and Magnus urges him to take it.

“T-Thanks,” Alec mutters before carefully lifting the mug from the counter.

A silence falls between them but Magnus doesn’t mind. He hasn’t had a pleasant morning such as this one in a very long time.

“So, um, where is everyone?” Alec asks. “I woke up and they were all gone.”

Magnus raises his brows and scans the area. “Hm,” he sighs. “No one really ever tells me anything so I’m as clueless as you are!”

Alec quickly notices the warlock’s over-enthusiasm, which immediately makes him suspicious. He sets down his mug and pulls out his phone, quickly dialing Jace’s number.

His suspicions are confirmed when Jace doesn’t answer.

“Magnus,” Alec sighs tiredly. “Where are they?”

The warlock feels his smile falter and he tries to look at anything _but_ Alec’s face in that moment. Even after all these years, he’s still a _horrible_ liar.

“Magnus…”

“They’re probably already there,” Magnus explains. “There really would be no use in stopping them and-“

“By the angels…Just tell me!” Alec cries out.

“Alright alright!” Magnus raises his arms in defeat “Clary may or may not know where the cup is, and she and Jace may or may not be on their way to retrieve it.” He notices the tips of Alec’s ears turning red and takes a step towards him. “Now before you freak out, they said it’d only take an hour. They went to Luke’s precinct and from what I recall, it should be a simple in-and-out mission.”

Alec clenches his fist before stepping around Magnus and back towards the living room. The warlock quickly follows him and frowns when he sees Alec slipping on his jacket.

“I should get going,” he tells Magnus while typing a message on his phone. “Gotta clean up after Jace, like always, and deal with the aftermath of our parents finding out.”

Magnus crosses his arms and leans against the doorway. “You know, Jace is a big boy. You don’t always have to clean up after him, Alexander.”

Alec lets out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well,” he sighs. “Thanks again for…” He pauses in his steps, trying to find the right words. “Just…Thanks. I guess.”

He rushes out the door before Magnus can even utter a goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who started Spring Break? 
> 
> Guess who will have more time to write? 
> 
> Guess who has been on a role in updating? 
> 
> Me Me Meeee! 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone who has been leaving kudos & comments. I love you all <3 
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr: whatadaze.tumblr.com


	5. Surprises

One hundred twenty-nine years?

One hundred thirty-one?

Magnus lost count of how long it has been since he’s felt anything _remotely_ like this.

It started off small.

When Magnus would make his morning coffee, he’d suddenly wonder how Alexander likes his.

Or when he’d add streaks of color to his hair, his mind would drift off to what Alexander’s favorite color might be.

He’d glance down at his phone (more than he should), hoping that he’d receive a call or text from him. When he’d see that his screen was still blank, he’d throw it across the room, shattering the phone to pieces before he'd fix it with his magic a few seconds later, in hopes that maybe, Alexander would call him.

And then the cycle continued. 

Magnus knows he isn’t in _love_ with the Shadowhunter nor is he wishing to call him his boyfriend (well, maybe that), but the warlock has to admit, he’s been beside himself ever since Alexander spent the night. Seeing him in his kitchen that morning…it’s something he _definitely_ wants to see again.

Of course, the warlock wishes he could talk about what he’s feeling with someone, and frankly, Chairman Meow _and_ Church don’t seem particularly interested in what’s going on in their owner’s love life.

So, he messages the one person he knows would… _somewhat_ care.

“Ah, Catarina,” Magnus grins. “I was _just_ thinking about you, darling.”

The warlock brushes some dust off her dress. “ _You_ messaged _me,_ Magnus,” she reminds him. “Said it was urgent?”

“Would you like something to drink?” he offers, floating through his living room. “I can make you anything you like—a cocktail, margarita, or since you’re a simple woman…a whiskey neat?”

Catarina taps her foot impatiently. “I have work in an hour, and it’s still not safe to go portaling around as a warlock,” she says grimly. “Last time I checked, Valentine is still at large.”

“Alright, alright,” Magnus replies. “I’ll just make one for myself.”

He begins to go through his collection of liquor bottles but could practically _feel_ the impatient warlock breathing down his neck.

“Magnus…”

“You know,” he sighs solemnly. “It’s been such a long time and I guess I’m not aware of what people do these days.”

“Do _what_ , Magnus? I swear if you drag this any longer-“

“A date, Catarina,” he replies with a smile. “Where. Do. People. Go. On. A. Date?”

Catarina’s brows fly up from her head and slowly but surely, a grin creeps up on her blue features. “Wait. Magnus Bane…has a date?” she asks. “When? With who? When the hell did this happen?”

Magnus pours some tequila into his shaker. “Hm, well…it’s a fairly long story, and I _do_ remember you said you have work in an hour,” Magnus says, a smile tugging on his own lips. “But if you _must_ know…his name is _Alexander Lightwood_.” He lets out a dreamy sigh. “Just the name sounds delicious doesn’t it?”

“Lightwood…” The name feels familiar on her tongue. “Y-You don’t mean-“

“Yes yes, Maryse and Robert’s son,” he replies, rolling his eyes. “But before you say anything, Alexander is _nothing_ like his parents.”

Catarina brows furrow. “But he’s a Shadowhunter, Magnus,” she reminds him. “ _And_ mortal.”

Magnus pours his drink into a glass and swirls it around. “Now we haven’t even been on a first date, sweetheart. I haven’t thought about what we will do when faced with his inevitable demise.” He takes a sip of his drink before finally turning to face his longtime friend. “He’s different, Catarina. He…intrigues me.”

“Magnus, I-“ She lets out a defeated sigh before sending an encouraging smile his way. “Never mind. If this _Alexander_ boy makes you happy then…I’ll support you. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you like this.”

The atmosphere in the room instantly changes and Magnus smiles with glee. “See? This is _exactly_ why I messaged you and not Ragnor or even _Raphael_ for that matter.”

“Well I’m honored,” she replies dryly. She glances at her watch and stands up from her seat. “And I have to go.”

“Ah, duty calls?” he asks. “Well, go on then! Save lives and whatever else you do.”

Catarina walks over to him and places a light kiss on his cheek. “Take him somewhere comfortable. A bar, perhaps? Something casual. You don’t want to scare the boy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Magnus laughs. “Now tut tut sweetheart. Off you go!”

He raises a hand and draws a portal for the warlock, lifting up his drink in farewell as she steps through.

* * *

Chairman Meow jumps off the bed and the sudden movement jolts Magnus awake. A string of curses leave his lips as he tries to fall back asleep, but a series of frantic knocks assures him that he won’t.

“No…” Magnus groans, shoving a pillow over his head. If he ignores it, maybe it’ll-

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

The warlock sends his pillow flying across the room before finally rolling out of bed. He snaps on his robe and waves a hand to open his front door, ready to kill whoever is standing on the other side.

“Sweetheart. You realize not everyone is nocturnal, right?” Magnus asks grimly, stepping aside for the vampire. “Now what’s got you banging on my door at this lovely hour of the night?”

Raphael wipes his nose with his sleeve and paces around the living room. “You know, all I’ve ever wanted is for my clan to be safe—follow the Accords and keep to ourselves,” he grits out. “B-But then Camille comes back and she just-“ Raphael runs a hand through his dark hair. “She’s been breaking the Accords, Magnus! For _years_! And everyone seems to be turning a blind eye!”

Magnus narrows his eyes at the vampire. “You woke me up,” he clarifies. “At this time of the night, to talk about… _Camille_?”

“It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this,” he rasps. “I didn’t-“

“Darling,” Magnus sighs. “You’ll have to be more clear so that I can understand what’s going on.”

Raphael’s nostrils flare as he finally stops pacing. “Camille fed her blood to a mundane,” he explains. “And then she killed him.”

“What?”

“And to make _everything_ worse,” Raphael continues. “It’s that Shadowhunter’s friend. The redhead, you know? She has that friend with the glasses-”

“Simon?” Magnus feels his mouth go dry. “Camille turned Simon?”

Raphael nods.

“He’s in transitioning. I just…I didn’t know what to do, Magnus,” he says, finally taking a seat. “I couldn’t just let Camille have her way with him so…” He takes in a shaky breath. “I took him.”

“You took him,” Magnus repeats. “And what do you mean by that, my dear?”

“I store his body in a warehouse by the docks,” Raphael confesses. “Knowing Camille, she would’ve dumped his body in the ocean to hide the fact that she broke the Accords. I couldn’t just have his soul be trapped for _eternity_. No one deserves that.”

Magnus observes the agitated vampire sitting in his living room and feels the anger he had felt just moments earlier slip away from him. “Darling,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You need to tell Clary.”

“I can’t just-“

“It’s not a matter of can or can’t,” Magnus interrupts. “You and I both know that the boy doesn’t have much time.”

Raphael digs his palms into his eyes and the warlock takes a seat beside him.

“Camille will pay for what she did,” Magnus says, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “The clan deserves a good leader. They deserve _you_.” He gives his shoulder a tight squeeze before pushing him up. “Now go. Before the sun rises.”

* * *

" _He’s just a boy,” the woman cries. “He’s my boy!”_

_Magnus kneels down at the grieving woman. “And he always will be,” he says softly. “I hope you entrust that I’ll take care of him.”_

_“You must,” she says, her accent thick against her tongue. “Please, sir. You must.”_

_And with a final smile, Magnus stands back up and helps the woman up to her feet. She wraps her tiny arms around his waist and for a moment, he is taken aback by the sudden physical touch._

_“Please help him become like you,” she mutters. “A man who helps those in need. A man who’s as selfless as you.”_

_“Now darling, you give me too much credit,” he jokes. “I’m just a-“_

_The woman takes his face between her hands. “You must,” she repeats, her dark eyes boring into his. “You must!”_

_Magnus wraps his hand around hers. “I will,” he assures her. “You have my word.”_

For some strange reason, the woman’s words still rang in his ears, even after all these years.

Maybe it's due to the fact that her son was banging on his doorstep last night, or maybe…

Magnus rubs his tired eyes and reaches for his phone.

After receiving a call from the Institute, Magnus abruptly hung up the phone, not in the mood to help with whatever they needed him for. His “warlock powers” weren’t something that they could acquire whenever they pleased.

But then he remembered that a certain Shadowhunter might be there and…

Magnus dials a number and brings the phone to his ear.

After the second ring, the woman’s voice sounds again. “New York Institute.”

“Ah, this is Magnus Bane,” he greets. “The one who hung up on you a few minutes ago? _Entirely_ my fault, darling. I’ve always been a bit grumpy when I just wake up, something I’ve suffered with even as a young boy.” He chuckles to himself. “Well anyway…the Institute needed me for something?”

“Yes, Mr. Bane,” the woman says. “There’s been a Forsaken attack. While we acquired the corpse, we need you, as High Warlock, to determine whether or not magic was used to create it.”

“Simple enough,” Magnus replies, looking down at his nails. “I’ll be right over.”

He hangs up the phone and rolls himself out of bed for the second time that day. When he catches his reflection, his eyes widen in surprise and a horrified shriek escapes his lips.

“What in the…”

The warlock crawls towards the mirror and gapes at the bags under his eyes.

His beautiful, beautiful eyes!

Magnus hopes that the Institute isn’t in dire need of his assistance. It’ll take _at least_ an hour to prep his face. This wasn’t something magic could fix. He’ll have to take matters into his own hands.

* * *

Magnus runs a hand through his hair as he steps out of the portal.

The Institute always made him feel tense, but the thought of Alexander being inside calms him. As he gets admitted inside, Magnus wonders if the Shadowhunter knows he’ll be arriving.

“Magnus!” Isabelle calls out. “You’re here!”

“Ah, Isabelle,” he greets. “Haven’t had the pleasure of seeing you lately.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh. “We’ve been a bit… _busy_ ,” she replies. “I’m sure you’re aware of what’s been going on.”

“Unfortunately,” he drawls.

“Well, on the bright side, we have something a bit fun for you,” she says. “The Forsaken…it’s nothing like we've ever seen before.”

“Hm? And how’s that, my dear?”

Isabelle’s heels clack loudly against the tile floor as they begin to make their way down to the autopsy room. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

Well now Magnus really _is_ intrigued.

He always did love surprises.

* * *

The process is quite intricate.

Magnus has to go through every inch of the corpse to see if there is any trace of magic left in the body. If he finds even the _tiniest_ evidence of magic, he has to figure out who may have cast it.

The list of warlocks capable of doing so isn’t long enough for the task to be _impossible_ , but Magnus does have a million other things he’d rather be doing.

For example…

“So,” Magnus hums. “How _is_ Alexander?”

He tries to focus on the task at hand, but he can already feel himself lose concentration.

Isabelle leans down to examine the Forsaken’s face and winces. “Putrefaction,” she notes. “It’s decomposing.”

“It’s just so hard to tell if Alexander’s even interested,” he continues, moving on to its torso. “I mean, I can’t fathom why he _wouldn’t_ be.”

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed,” Isabelle finally says, lifting an arm in disgust. “But my brother’s not exactly warm and fuzzy.”

“Hmm, I suppose,” Magnus sighs. “With Clary’s arrival...”

“And Valentine’s return,” she adds.

“Mmm-hmm, and running the Institute.”

“The envoy from the Clave.”

“Oh, who I hear is _very_ impressive!” Magnus remarks. “Hm, what else? Oh, babysitting Jace.”

Isabelle laughs. “And dealing with our parents who are trying to find him a _wife_.” Her smile quickly falls as she realizes what she just slipped. “Sorry,” she sighs.

Magnus feels his magic pulsing around him, but he quickly recomposes himself. He has to admit, he didn’t expect _that_ to be on Alexander’s plate as well.

“It’s quite alright,” Magnus says softly. He runs a final hand over the body, just to be sure, but he’s positive that magic wasn’t used to create this… _thing_. “I suppose Alec is just following his duty.”

Isabelle begins to extract some of the corpse’s blood, a frown taking over her face. “Not everyone gets the luxury of following their heart,” Isabelle sighs, handing Magnus the vial of blood. He seals the tube with his magic and watches Isabelle now make an incision down the Forsaken's chest.

_A wife, huh?_

“I’m gonna go deliver the preliminary findings,” Magnus announces. “It seems like you have everything under control here.”

With a snap of his fingers, a folder falls into his hand. While no magic was found, Magnus still leaves the room with quite unexpected news—a surprise he _definitely_ didn’t enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one week? Whaaat? (This may or may not happen again, who knows) 
> 
> Now here's a question for you all:  
> Would you rather have me post more frequent shorter chapters, or less frequent longer chapters. (If that makes sense...lol) Let me know in the comments or on my tumblr! :)
> 
> As always, thank you for the kudos & comments! 
> 
> Talk to me here: whatadaze.tumblr.com


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